


Divergence

by madrose_writing



Series: Somewhere in Time [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Grey Magic, People in disguise, Redemption, tomione - Freeform, what if
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28774974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrose_writing/pseuds/madrose_writing
Summary: By saving Draco's life, Hermione created a divergence in the time travel continuum. It leaves her stuck in the past where things are much different than what she was taught. And when one major event after another changes, creating a dark new world for her to navigate, there's only one person who can help; Riddle. [part 3 of Continuum/Uncharted - Tomione ending]
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle
Series: Somewhere in Time [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792948
Comments: 22
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! If you're here, I assume it's because you fell for Tom along the way (I understand completely) and you needed some closure with Tomione. For those of you that love Draco/Dramione...THIS IS NOT THE STORY FOR YOU. As you can see above, Draco is GONE and that is the last we will see of him in this story.
> 
> I have big plans for part three so I hope you stick around on what I'm sure will be one wild ride!
> 
> I'm also on TikTok as madrose_writing so if you plan on sharing my content in any way, PLEASE TAG ME!
> 
> *currently I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION to have this or any of my fics bound.

**ONE**

_**Saturday, 4 June 2005** _

Hermione could feel the magic rising, reaching for Riddle's as it hummed against the surface of her skin. The more he chanted, the more the air around them thickened; the more shallow her breaths became. Last time this had happened, her mind hadn't been as cluttered as it was now. Back then, she had been able to concentrate on the way their minds melded into a single presence. At the way his soul felt as it tangled itself with hers. The reason as well as the initiation itself was vastly different and despite their history together, she didn't feel as connected to him now as she had then.

She knew it didn't matter; that the bond would work the same regardless. So she did her best to relax and let it happen. So she continued to breathe; in through her nose and out through her mouth. With each breath she felt her mind clearing, but she refused to let go of the reason she was doing this. When it was over, she would bury the image of Draco's face deep within the box she thought Riddle couldn't find. With any luck, she would hide them from herself entirely.

A small gasp of shock left her lips at the feel of her palm being sliced open; the same one that she had cut years ago. As a steady stream of warm blood began to trickle down through their joined fingers, she recalled the way she had looked down at Riddle. Even looking up at him now she could see the fire in his eyes, but despite everything, there was no hatred. She swallowed hard as she tried to recall if there had been any back then as she mixed their blood together for the first time, but found none in her memories either.

She stiffened as she felt his presence pressing at the back of her mind. It was the last part of the process. All she had to do was drop her barriers and let him in. But it wasn't just her mind he was ready to invade. It was her heart, body, and soul as well. It was what being bound to him meant. Every single part of him would belong to her. But the opposite was true as well and the idea of experiencing his true feelings for her once and for all wasn't something Hermione thought she could ever be ready for.

With a deep breath, Hermione lowered every wall she had ever built over the last seven years. Her hand shook in Riddle's grasp and tears dropped from the outer conners of her eyes, but still, she held his gaze. But right when she should have felt the warmth of him, taking over every last part of her, they were interrupted by the sound of the door slamming open.

Riddle tensed and he kept his eyes on her for a second before moving past her shoulder to fall upon their intruder. "It had better be important, Lucius," he murmured, his jaw clenching after he spoke.

"The wards have been breached, My Lord."

Riddle's gaze found hers once more; a humorless smirk tugging at his lips. "Of course they have."

"I didn't-"

"Wait here," he ordered, removing his hand from hers. "Stay with her," he demanded of Lucius. "If anyone other than myself comes through that door, kill them." He stopped before the elder Malfoy; his eyes burning bright with rage. "And I mean, _anyone_." And after a glance over his shoulder at Hermione, he took off towards the door and slammed it shut behind him as he left.

Hermione traced a shaking fingertip across the cut on her palm and watched as the skin began to stitch itself back together. As she clenched and unclenched her fist, trying to power through the throbbing ache in her hand, she didn't realize Lucius had moved closer to her. She did a double take at the rage that took hold of his face, but was too shocked to do anything as he reached out and wrapped a hand around her bicep.

"We need to get you out of here," he said as he pulled her close to him.

"No," she said, trying to fight him off. "We're staying. He-"

He yanked her close and she stumbled, causing her to shoulder to slam into his chest. He used the opportunity to get closer still and brush his lips against her ear. "Stop trying to save me, Granger. We either do this together or not at all."

Hermione went absolutely still as the sound of his voice changed somewhere in the middle of speaking. And when she pulled back to look at him again, it was Draco holding her close instead of Lucius. Her breathing resumed, this time in quick, shallow pants as she pulled herself free of his grasp. "No, Draco, you don't-"

"No, Hermione, I mean it. Whatever deal you made with him, I don't care." He grabbed hold of her face and waited until she stopped trying to escape. "My life isn't the most important one. If we die taking him down, so be it. This isn't about you and me anymore. This is about the greater good." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Something you used to believe in."

"I do, it's just-"

"Just what, Hermione?" he snapped, shaking her a little as his fingers tightened around her flesh. "You said you chose me; that you loved me and yet I leave only to come home and find you've gone right back to him."

"I do love you!" she hissed, yanking herself free of his hold and shoving at him with her bloodied palm. "Which is exactly why I had to leave! I'm doing this _for you_! For _both_ of you!"

Draco's eyes went wide with shock at her words. "Both?" he spat with a slight shake of his head.

"I told you in my letter that this is bigger than the two of us now I'm doing what's best to save as many people as I can. As many innocent lives as humanly possible." More tears blurred her vision as she raised one of her hands to her stomach. The look on his face as she put the pieces together broke her heart, but she continued to speak despite the pain. "I've done awful things, Draco; made too many bad choices. I can't let this be one of them."

Tears gathered in his own eyes as his gaze locked with hers. His head shook slightly as he stared at her with disbelief. But when his lips parted to speak, it was Riddle's voice they heard.

"Since I highly doubt you have come here to congratulate either of us, I think it is time you left, Draco."

Draco whirled around at the same time he grabbed Hermione's wrist and shoved her behind him. "I am _not_ leaving her. Not with you."

Riddle inclined his head and reached up to rub at his jaw. "Then so be it."

Hermione felt as if the world had completely stopped moving. Riddle's wrist had flicked faster than she could blink and it wasn't until Draco was falling into a heap at her feet did she realize what had happened. Slowly, her gaze dropped only to take in the sight of his cold, lifeless eyes staring back at her. Her lips parted to allow the scream past her lips as she dropped to her knees beside him. Raising her arms up felt as though she were swimming through sludge, but her hands never reached their target. Instead, she felt an arm being looped around her waist, pulling her away from Draco completely.

As the world caught up to her, she fought back against Riddle's hold. She clawed and punched; kicked and screamed at him in an attempt to free herself. "Let me go!" she sobbed, knowing that if she wanted to use her magic to bring him back, it had to be quick.

"There will be no resurrection, Hermione."

"We had a deal!" she screeched at the top of her lungs. "We had a deal! I came back! I-"

Her skin began to burn as her emotions, her _magic_ spiraled out of control. It was akin to what she had felt at the lab, but on a much grander scale. The more she fought Riddle's hold, the more he tightened it. The more she thought about Draco's lifeless eyes staring back at her over Riddle's shoulder, the more painful her grief became. She knew that no matter how long she lived, she would never get over this.

" _Time heals all wounds."_

Harry's voice echoed around the recesses of her mind as she began to blame herself. She wasn't sure why that memory chose to surface. All it did was send her down a spiral of blame. Had she gotten over her fear of heights she could have learned how to properly fly a broom. Had she mastered that skill, she could have steered her and Draco to safety rather than straight into the ground. If they hadn't fallen, they wouldn't have ended up having to time travel to the past in order to escape the Fiendfyre.

A jolt went through her system as she realized what she had to do. If she was successful, it wouldn't just be Draco's life that she was saving. It would be everyone that had ever died in the last seven years. From Theo to Ginny and even all the way back to Harry and Ron. If she could pull this off, everything would change. And if she didn't, she knew she would rather be dead than live in a world without Draco anyway.

Without any guarantees on whether or not it would work, Hermione quit trying to hold her magic back. Instead, she squeezed her eyes shut tight and focused as best she could on her magical core. She pictured it expanding, filling her entire being. She felt the drawing room around her shake and even Riddle lost his balance for a moment as the floor began to shake violently beneath their feet.

"What are you doing?"

"Fixing my mistakes," she whispered, reaching out with her magic to unclasp the necklace at her throat. As it slid off of her between them, falling to the floor, she added, "Goodbye, Riddle."

For a moment, she felt his magic try to lock her in place, but her untapped core overpowered his easily. And in one moment she was standing in the circle of his arms inside the Malfoy Manor drawing room and the next, she was standing before her younger self stepping through the door to the Room of Requirement.

Hermione wasted no time in reaching for her younger self, taking in the sight of the clothes she remembered wearing during the Battle of Hogwarts, and pulled her close. She used her magic to bind them together, wiping out any chance for a paradox and then opened her eyes again only to find herself successful. She swayed on her feet, but she refused to give in to the exhaustion from such a surge of power. Instead, she shook herself and took off towards the spot she remembered having found Harry.

She raced through the stacks, eager to put an end to everything once and for all. Eager to be free of Riddle. Eager to save Draco from death. She didn't care if he didn't remember her; never remembered what they felt for each other. His life was more important than his love for her. But as she rounded the corner expecting her best friend, she stopped short at the sight of Draco standing before the door instead. Panic seized her airway and dropped her heart into her gut as she stared. He was continuously raking a hand through his hair as he paced in front of the door.

She glanced down at herself and clothes and realized something she hadn't before. Instead of bloodied and torn from the fray of battle, they were freshly laundered and pristine. She swallowed hard as she brought her hand up to her throat and sure enough, the necklace she thought she was once free of was there again.

"No," she whispered as tears stung her eyes.

This wasn't what she wanted. She wasn't supposed to go back this far. She was supposed to have just gone back to May of 1998, not December of 1944. But it was too late; she could already feel herself getting weaker; her adrenaline running out. There was nothing she could do to fix this.

Draco did a double take as he caught sight of her from the corner of his eye. He studied her for a moment, but Hermione didn't care about the anger in his eyes. The fact that they weren't dull and lifeless was all it took for her to launch herself at him. He stilled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him while sobbing on his chest.

"Granger-"

"I'm sorry!" she cried as she felt his heart beating beneath his chest. "I'm so sorry, Draco. I didn't- I tried to-"

"Spare me the details," he said, shoving her away. His jaw clenched as his gaze traveled down to her necklace. "I want the necklace back."

She stepped back when he went to reach for it, this time shielding his hand from the curling around the pendant. Last time, she had used her magic to burn his hand. This time, she didn't have the energy to do that, but she couldn't let him have it. "I can't give it to you," she breathed, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand.

He stared at her, silently seething before his shoulders jerked in shrug. "Fine, keep the bloody thing. I hope you remember what you did every time you look at it."

"Draco-"

"It seems you might have gotten lost, Hermione."

She whirled around in time to see Riddle coming around the corner. "I just wanted closure," she said, her voice shaking.

Draco must have made the mistake of letting his gaze slide to the door because Riddle's gaze flickered over her shoulder, tracking something. His eyes narrowed before he turned his gaze to Hermione. "What lies beyond the door?" he asked.

"Nothing," they said in unison, both of them flinching at their dead giveaway.

Riddle took a deep breath, giving an almost bored stare to both of them. "I am in no mood to play games tonight. Tell me what you really came here for or I consider this going behind my back and kill him."

A fresh round of tears sprang forth and clung to her lashes. Hermione could feel her heart skip a beat inside her chest, but as she and Draco both parted their lips to argue, Riddle flicked his wrist and sent Draco toppling to his knees. Hermione saw him struggle against the magic while staring up at them, wide-eyed and open mouthed.

Riddle's impatience was plain on his face as he looked at Hermione and took a step forward. She moved closer to Draco and held out her hands to get Riddle to stop advancing. "It's our way home!" she blurted. "We fell through the same door to get here and it only appears on the night of the New Moon."

Riddle's anger was tangible and Draco continued to struggle while it took all of Hermione's strength to remain upright.

"And if it worked tonight?" he asked, stepping closer to her, staring down the length of his nose at her. "You would have gone back home and left me in the dark?"

"We made a deal," she said. "One that could easily be upheld when I get back to the future," she added, her voice breaking as she recalled how easy it had been to break that deal.

"You are not going anywhere, Hermione."

She swallowed hard; her chest tightening as she forced herself to say, "Then let me send Draco back."

"He knows far too much. To send him would be a liability."

"I-" she shook her head and sucked in a breath. "I'll Obliviate him."

Riddle stared down at her, searching the depth of her gaze for any signs of betrayal. She could feel Draco struggling against the magic that kept him pinned down. In her mind, she repeated a mantra that she had to do this. In order to save Draco once and for all, she had to do this.

"You think you can remove these last few months from his mind? Completely? Without any way to reverse it?"

"I've done it before," she said as a tear slid down her cheek. "I've removed my entire existence from the minds of people I care deeply about just to keep them safe from you. I can do it again." Her hand trembled as she reached up and laid a hand on Riddle's arm. "Please," she begged. "Let me send him home. I'll remove everything so he won't remember and…" Her voice trailed off and she cleared her throat. "And I'll stay."

The seconds it took for Riddle to consider her proposal stretched on for what felt like eternity. As he nodded in acquisition, Hermione turned to face Draco. As she did, the hold on him gave way and he shot to his feet. Hermione stared up at him; every single memory of their lives together flashing before her eyes. The life he would never remember regardless if she wiped his memory clean.

"Go ahead. I actually think I would prefer not to remember any of this," he taunted. "Knowing you'll have to remember everything while I get to be free of you is the best gift I could have ever asked for."

"I know," she whispered as she reached up to cup his face between her palms. "I'm sorry for ever hurting you." Her thumbs swiped across the highpoints of his cheeks as tears fell in fat droplets down her own. "All I ever did was to keep you safe," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I love you."

With that, her magic seeped into his mind. It was hard to keep it focused; to remove everything about her from the moment they fell through the door to this moment. It was even harder still to remain standing as her recent bursts of magic were beginning to take their toll on her core. And when all his memories of her had been wiped clean, she threw her arms around him, placed her lips to his cheek, and whispered, "Go."

There was a moment of hesitation before he pulled himself from her embrace and turned towards the door. He walked towards it mechanically, as if it were someone else making his legs move. But he never stopped. Not even as he reached the door and turned the handle. Not even as he stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him. And as the door disappeared from sight, the floor rose up to greet Hermione, but she was unconscious before she ever said hello.


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO**

_**Tuesday, 30 December 1944** _

Tom sat in the infirmary, his concentration focused on the edge of Hermione's bed. She had been asleep for nearly a week, rendered unconscious by a significant use of magic. Madam Perth had used every spell and administered every potion available to her. She and Headmaster Dippet had even brought in the head Healer from St. Mungo's, but nothing worked. She was still alive, but barely.

Tom had tried numerous times to reach her. It had always been so easy before; just a small nudge of his mind against hers and he was in. Yet, the more he tried as she laid there, eyes closed and paler than she should be, the more unrelenting her mind seemed to be. Whatever she had done to herself in sending Malfoy back to the future had been damaging. Something he wasn't convinced she could walk away from.

He refused to believe that since she had been brought to death's door. In fact, if he recalled correctly, in the four short months since she'd entered his life, she had encountered death more than once. Each time she had walked away unscathed.

The first time, it had been his own fault. He had been dueling Draco in the center of Hogsmeade. When she saw them, she took up her place between them, catching a spell that hadn't been meant for her. His lips pressed together, forming a thin line as he recalled the way her skin had turned to ash before his eyes then. But even then, he had still been able to feel the warmth of her mind; reassurance that she wasn't fully gone from this world.

The second was shortly after that, when he found her leaving the castle in the dead of night. He had meant to approach her sooner, but upon seeing her with the bird in the snow kept him rooted. Watching her collapse had sparked something inside of him; something he hadn't known he was capable of. He felt it; the moment she over did it. It was as if her consciousness had reached out for him, begging for help. And he had responded in kind without even being aware he was moving.

Tom wasn't keen on that; the fact that a visceral need to protect and save her flared through his entire body. That he risked his own magical core to keep hers from overheating. He was already plagued with the jealousy coursing through him from catching her with Draco. Tom had had a lot of ambitions, but until having Hermione inside of his mind, literally seeing a piece of his soul, carnal pleasures had never been one of them. And when she woke up in the hut, all too ready to show him that she craved him too… He couldn't resist.

As Tom thought about the third time her life had nearly been taken, his gaze flickered to the slur he had carved into her arm. Much like the first time, the third had been his fault too. His anger had come to a head when Draco let it slip that she wasn't a halfblood as he'd come to believe. Whether she was intentionally hiding it from him or not didn't matter. The only thing that fueled him that night was that everything he had come to believe was starting to feel like a lie.

She was undoing every assumption he had ever made about the world; changing the course of his actions.

He swallowed hard as her screams from that night enveloped him. He shifted in his seat, his jaw clenched until they went away. Only then did he lift a hand to his cheek, letting the tips of his fingers graze over the cut she had made. The one where she had pressed her bleeding palm, mixing their blood together.

He thought about the moment he had come back to the Room of Requirement, finding her nearly as pale as she was now from losing so much blood. He recalled the way the blood had soaked through the sheets and the bedding, pooling to the floor beneath it. Her mind had never been so easily accessible before, allowing him to slip right in and see that she was hoping to never wake up again. She was lost; adrift in a sea of wildflowers.

She fought him when he tried to pull her back to reality, but eventually she gave in and followed him out of her dream.

Tom had had every intention of leaving her there. Of never seeing her face again. Of letting whatever happened be a decree of fate from whatever gods still reigned supreme. Instead, he spent his every waking moment from the time he left her behind to when he returned, trying to picture what life would be like without her in it. He held off for as long as he could, but after a simple raid of the Professor Slughorn's personal stash, Riddle had gone back to nurse her to health.

It was the first time in his life he had ever felt an ounce of guilt.

Yet, if he hadn't gone back to her, he wouldn't have experienced their moment of connection on the Astronomy Tower a few nights later. He wouldn't have felt her soul opening up to his in an attempt to bind themselves together. He hadn't realized what was happening until after; until he was feeding Kerus' corpse to the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets.

It was what made him desperate to find a way inside her mind now. To feel her presence mingling with his; some sort of reassurance that she was alive. That she would come back to him.

His gaze traveled up, landing on her face as his hands came to rest in his lap. He stared at her with furrowed brows as his thumb came up to stroke at the scarred tissue of his palm; the other point of entry she had forced her essence into him. He thought of their conversation that night as well as the one from Christmas; from before he had caught her with Draco about to leave him behind forever.

Hermione _knew_ him.

She had seen everything about him. Had known every single evil thing he had done. She was scared of him, sure, but she had stuck around despite her fear. She used it to her advantage and pushed him; even when he thought he had the upper hand.

Hermione was the only one that knew him, inside and out.

Tom wasn't sure what terrified him more; losing her or realizing that it was he who would be lost without _her._

"You should get some rest in your own bed, dear."

Tom turned his head to see Madam Perth coming to check on Hermione again. He knew this was the last check before she turned in for the night. It was when she always suggested he head back to the dorm and get a good night's rest. Another reminder that there was nothing he could do for her.

"I would like to stay."

She sighed quietly as she nodded her head, the charmed quill scratching over the hoving clipboard at her side. "I understand," she replied, a sad smile on her lips. "But I'm sure it would be more beneficial to her if you took care of yourself too."

A soft rush of air sounded from his nose at that. He knew for a fact that Hermione wouldn't care one way or the other if he took care of himself. If she were awake, she would have probably asked him to leave. She might have even asked him to not come back.

Yet, as he watched Madam Perth go about her usual routine, Tom's body was quick to remind him that he'd been in that chair for nearly a week. That, aside from the two times he had stepped away long enough to take a shower, he hadn't seen any part of the castle other than the infirmary since he'd brought Hermione there. At the thought of sleeping in his own bed, his body sang with delight.

"I believe you are right, Madam Perth," he said, pushing himself to his feet.

She looked up at him with wide eyes, clearly not prepared for him to actually leave Hermione's side.

"I'll send word if anything changes during the night," she assured him. "Sleep well, Tom," she added before taking her leave for the night.

Tom waited until she was gone to approach the bed. His fingers twitched at his side as he considered reaching for Hermione's hand. Instead, he simply stood there, his eyes sweeping up and down the length of her sheet-covered body. After several minutes of staring at her, he leaned in, his lips brushing over her ear as he whispered, "You chose to stay here, Hermione. You do not get to back out by dying now."

Refusing to linger a second longer, he turned and strode from the room, stopping only when he was down in the dungeons and alone in his dorm. There, he rested his back against the door and closed his eyes, trying to fight the urge to turn around and go back to her. At least this time, he had the option of seeing her whenever he so desired. He no longer had to wait for Draco to fall asleep or slip into his mind to put him in that state.

At the thought of his former roommate, Tom's eyes snapped open. His gaze settled on the bed Draco had been using; the one Headmaster Dippet had had set up the moment Draco and Hermione appeared out of thin air. Tom hadn't been thrilled at the idea of having a roommate. Being Head Boy was going to be his only opportunity to have a room of his own, something he had desperately wanted since he was old enough to want anything.

Images of Hermione writing beneath Draco atop the sheets; the soft sounds of her moans swirling around the recesses of his mind. Tom wet his lips, recalling the way she had tasted as she came for him despite Draco being fast asleep beside her, holding her tight. A thin smile stretched his lips as he raised his wand, muttering the correct spells until every last trace of Draco was wiped from the room.

Now, if Hermione came to this room, the only bed available to her would be Tom's.

All she needed to do was wake up.

* * *

_**Wednesday, 31 December 1944** _

The last time Tom had stayed in bed past eight in the morning was when he was in the infirmary from having been nearly killed by Draco. At least then he felt rested. As he woke the morning of his eighteenth birthday, he was anything but. He thought it might be the absolute silence of the room. Even on the nights Draco slept elsewhere in the castle, the possibility that he could return filled the void. There was also a part of him that couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled into his stomach; a feeling he wasn't familiar with or pleased to experience.

He pushed those feelings deep down as he went about getting dressed for the day. There were only two possibilities he was sure to face upon leaving the dorm. One would be to learn that Hermione was still in her bed, still on the verge of death with no signs of coming back. The other was that she _did_ wake. And if she was up, then he would finally be able to learn what it was that she had done. What had used her magic in such a manner that she nearly depleted her core beyond repair.

If he were honest with himself, he wasn't sure which one he detested more.

Resisting the urge to go straight to infirmary, Tom made his way to the Great Hall. It turned out that he hadn't only slept late, but he had missed the morning entirely. With it being the middle of Winter Holiday, the hall was quite empty. His Knights had all returned home to their families.

Well, the ones he had buried.

After he finished eating, he made the journey to the infirmary, forcing every step he took to be as slow as possible. Madam Perth was near the entryway, perusing her stock as if counting inventory. She did a double take at the sight of his shadow and turned to look at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "Ah, happy birthday Tom."

Tom inclined his head. "I assume there were no changes in Miss Granger overnight?" he returned, trying to ignore the look of pity in her gaze.

"Mister Riddle-"

Her brow furrowed and her head began to shake back and forth. Not wanting to hear the rest of what she had to say, Tom moved forward. His pace increased with every step, stopping only when he reached the bed he had left Hermione in the night before.

A bed that was empty now.

And cleaned as if no one had ever been in it at all.

"Where is she?" he asked, spinning around to look at Madam Perth.

"I don't…" she started, shaking her head. "I don't know."

Anger coursed through him as he spun on his heel, storming through the castle to find the one person he knew might have an answer as to where she could be. As he did, he let his mind wander, reaching out as far and wide as possible, searching for any trace of Hermione within the walls of the castle.

Tom didn't even bother to stop and knock on Professor Dumbledore's office door. Anyone else might have jumped or looked up with surprise; perhaps a bit of fear. Yet Dumbledore remained seated, his gaze taking a moment to lift so he could take in the sight of a student on the other side of his desk.

"Where is she?" he asked, his jaw clenching as his heart beat wildly in his chest.

He continued to stay calm as his lips parted to speak. "She woke shortly after midnight. Her family-"

"You and I both know she is _not_ from this time, Professor. She has no family to turn to."

Dumbledore held Tom's gaze evenly before giving a slight nod and settling back into his chair. "No," he replied, "She does not."

It was hard to swallow as Tom's jaw clenched. "I suppose that even if she told you where she was going or what she was up to, you would not share that information with me."

"Correct."

Tom's nostrils flared as he tried to reign in his temper. If he weren't a student. If it were anyone else besides Dumbledore in front of him, Tom would have lashed out. He would have used every trick in the book to invade the other man's mind and bleed it dry of information.

"Alas, the only thing she told me was that Draco had been sent back to their time and that she had missed her opportunity to go with him. I suspect, however, that you already knew that."

Tom knew that it wasn't a question and by not saying anything on the matter, he was providing confirmation. "Did she say anything else?" he asked, his voice tight with anger.

"She only asked to leave her be and not go looking for her."

True or not, Tom had no intention of leaving Hogwarts. Not until he absolutely had to. Hermione might have blown into his life like a hurricane, changing his course of direction, but she would never change that. Instead, he gave a sharp nod and straightened his stance.

"Thank you for enlightening me, Professor."

Dumbledore inclined his head in return before offering a slight smile. "Happy Birthday, Tom."

The corner's of Tom's lips twitched, but he said nothing as he turned to leave. His thoughts ran rampant, wondering where in the world she could have gone. Wondering what it was that she was up to. But when he came to a stop, he found himself on the observation deck of the Astronomy Tower. He moved to stand near the railing, staring out at the Forbidden Forest. Slowly, he lifted his hands up, running his thumb along the jagged lines of the wound on his other palm.

Wherever she was; whatever she was doing, Tom knew one thing for sure.

He would see her again.

It was only a matter of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm glad you guys are loving it so far :)
> 
> You can follow me on TikTok and FB madrose_writing
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	3. Chapter 3

**THREE**

_**Sunday, 13 May 1945** _

The first thing Hermione sensed was the scent of the ocean. The warm, subtle breeze carried it over her, tickling the small hairs across her body. She inhaled deeply, savoring it. When combined with the warmth of the setting sun coming off the white sand, it was nothing but heaven. The ground beneath her was far too comfortable to be sand. In fact, she wasn't even convinced it was a bed as it felt more like what she'd always imagined a cloud to be like. And the sunset… The thought of yellow, orange, and purple hues blending together in perfect harmony was enough to make her sigh.

Had it not been for the weight of an arm banding around her waist or the warmth of a body pressing against her from behind, she might have opened her eyes.

"Don't get up," a voice mumbled, the breath ghosting across her skin in a way that made her shiver.

She inhaled deeply before pushing herself back into his embrace even further. "You were right," she whispered back.

She felt his chuckle rumble through her spine. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. Could you repeat that?"

His grunt was soft as she nudged him with her elbow, but he only chuckled again and held her tighter. "This is exactly what we needed, Draco."

He hummed in agreement as he angled himself so he could plant his lips against her cheek. "We can stay here as long as you want. Forever, even."

"Forever is a long time."

"But it's what I want," he replied, moving again so that he was looming over her, a grin on his face as he stared down at her. "Forever with you," he murmured as she reached up to cup his face at the same time she moved her legs, cradling his body to hers. "That's all I've ever wanted."

She rolled her eyes and huffed at that. "Not always."

His eyes flashed as he turned his head to brush his lips across the inside of her palm. "No, I suppose you're right." He took a deep breath then and dragged his lips to the heel of her palm. "It might not have been what I always wanted in the past," he added, lowering himself a fraction. "But it _is_ all I want from here on out."

At that, his lips dropped down to hers. She wrapped her arms around him and moved her legs to lock them around his waist. He kissed her slow and sweet at first; just simple presses of his lips against hers. Smiles took hold of both their faces; she could feel it in their kiss. Slowly, like the sun sinking below the horizon, the mood began to shift. Her lips parted for him to deepen the kiss. They moaned in unison the moment their tongues met. The dance that followed was an intimate one; one meant to savor instead of rush.

The joy was there, slowly being overridden by passion, but there was something else too. Something that pulsed around the edges, almost as if trying to encroach. It started as a small pit of dread in her stomach, but the longer they lingered there, wrapped up in one another, the more pressing the ominous presence became. Soon, it became hard to breathe, but Hermione tried to fight it.

Instead of sliding out from under Draco like it wanted her to, she pushed forward, rolling them so it was him on his back with her straddling his waist. He smiled into their kiss again, breaking it only for a second so they could catch their breath.

"Forever," she mumbled against his skin as she leaned in to nibble at his jaw, working her way to his ear. "Just you and I until the end of time." She took his earlobe between her teeth and ground her hips at the feel of him growing hard beneath her. "Right here, on this very beach."

"Hermione…"

But it wasn't just Draco's voice she heard.

Beneath it lie another; one she couldn't quite place. It was familiar and alluring; the call of it sending shivers down her spine.

When it sounded again, this time sounding less like Draco than before, Hermione pushed herself off of Draco and rolled onto her back beside him. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her palms to them, as if to chase away the pounding in her head. She took deep, ragged breaths in the hopes the nausea would go away sooner rather than later. To help it dissipate, she focused on the lull of the ocean; of the waves crashing against the shore as the very heartbeat of the earth itself.

Having gotten it to subside, she lowered her hands to her side and reached for Draco's. She thread her fingers with his and squeezed. It took her only a second to realize that something was wrong. That he hadn't squeezed her hand back and his flesh felt cold against hers.

"Draco?" she whispered, her voice shaking.

Slowly, she removed her hand and pushed herself up on one elbow. She swallowed hard around the lump that had formed in her throat as she tried to prepare herself for what she might see. Her heart ached as tears leaked from behind her closed eyes.

Even though she knew what she would see, the sight of his cold and lifeless eyes made her gasp. His skin was as ashen as the sky around them and his face was frozen in a state of awe.

She looked away then, pressing a hand to her lips as they began to tremble. As her mind tried to process how this had all happened, how he had been planning forever on the beach with her one second and dead the next, she pushed herself into a sitting position. Slowly, she backed away, refusing to look his way again. Her head shook back and forth as tears streamed down her face. She kept moving until she was off the bed, stopping only when her back hit the wall with the large window she'd been staring out of. She slid down it, covering her face once more with her hands as she sobbed her grief to the otherwise empty room.

At the sound of footsteps on the wooden floors, making them creak, Hermione went still again. She held her breath until they stopped right before her. Slowly, she inhaled deeply and lifted her head. She blinked rapidly trying to clear her vision of tears, but when she did, she wished she'd kept them closed.

Riddle was there, standing before her with an impassive expression on his face. He said nothing as he lowered himself to a crouch in front of her. Once he was at his level, he simply extended a hand for her to take. Her gaze flickered to it for a moment before looking back into his gaze.

"Go," she whispered, her voice shaking.

He made no movement or said anything as he remained; hand still stretched out before him.

"You did this," she added, tears springing forth again. "You killed him. He's _gone_ because of _you_!"

And still, he kept his silence without moving a muscle.

"I don't need you," she breathed.

At that, his lips began to curve while his eyes darkened along with the sky.

"Ah, but you do."

As she closed her eyes and reached inside herself to lash out with her magic, the air shifted. When she opened her eyes, the room with the view of the beach was gone as were both Draco and Riddle. Instead, she was sitting up in the middle of the bed inside the small flat she'd been renting just outside of Godric's Hollow. The sheets were soaked from the cold sweat that covered her body and her breathing was nothing more than shallow pants as she stared into the darkness of the room.

For a few moments, she could still hear the waves of the ocean, but soon they were drowned out from the celebration that continued in the streets outside.

The war had ended a few days prior and all of Europe had erupted into one large party. It lessened with each passing day, but she understood. Had things gone differently, she would have liked to think she would have done the same.

As it was, she shook out her thoughts of a lifetime that would never exist, and kicked the sheets off of her. She went right for the bathroom and turned the taps so she could splash herself with cold water. She let the droplets run down her neck; her nightshirt already ruined from the sweat. When the water started to get warm, she turned off the taps and stood there; head bowed over the sink while her hands gripped either side of the porcelain.

After a moment to pull herself together, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep, she turned towards the shower and turned it on. She was quick to strip away her nightgown and as she crossed to put it in the hamper, she did a double take at the sight of herself in the mirror. The nightgown fell from her fingertips as she stared at herself. Normally, she tried to ignore her reflection simply because the grief was too much to bear. Especially when her eyes drifted down to the flat of her stomach.

Her jaw clenched as one of her hands came to rest on her skin. Had it not been for her travel backwards through time, she might not have lost her child. Had it survived, she would have been in her third trimester. Her hand roved over her skin as she turned, trying to picture what that would have looked like.

But thinking of her loss made her think of _him_. Something she tried not to do since the moment she'd fled Hogwarts and left him behind. And in order to keep him banished to the back of her mind, she turned away from the mirror and stepped into the shower, hoping the heat of the water would wash away the dream.

* * *

Arriving at Godric's Hollow hadn't been on purpose.

Hermione had woken up in the infirmary at Hogwarts in the dead of night only to find that she had been unconscious for a week. One of the elves had informed Madame Perth she was awake and the Healer arrived just as Hermione was getting out of bed. Her magic too weak to obey her commands, she stood there, waiting for Madame Perth to finish her check up. All the while her eyes remained glued to the door, wondering when _he_ would make an appearance.

It was after Madame Perth delivered the news that she'd lost her child that she gave her some time to herself before she discharged her. Hermione took long enough to inhale deeply before she snuck out and made her way to Dumbledore's quarters.

She didn't tell him much; she didn't have to. She could see the curiosity in his eyes, but he never asked for clarification. All she told him was that Draco was gone and she had to get away from there. From _him_. So Dumbledore lent her a pair of robes that she transfigured into something else and lent her enough money to see her through for awhile. And despite the freezing temperatures outside, he walked with her to the edge of the wards around the castle and waited until she disappeared without a word.

It had taken her a moment to recognize the place she landed and once she did, she almost left again. But for a split second, it felt as though Harry were standing beside her. The snow was falling the same as it had been that night and when she tilted her head to the side, she swore she felt his shoulder beneath her ear.

But she had shaken it off and sought shelter for the night at the inn across town. Since Godric's Hollow was a blend of both Muggles and wizards, was careful. She told herself that the following morning she was going to leave; to find another place to hide, but one day had turned into two. The next thing she knew, winter had given way to spring and summer was now right around the corner.

The only thing that had changed was she was no longer staying at the inn. Instead, she'd found a little flat and even picked up a job at one of the shops on the main road. For the most part, she kept to herself, but she had made some acquaintances along the way. She even assumed a new identity as Claire Le Roux; a young woman who had lost her family in France due to the war.

So when the second Tuesday of May was declared Victory Day all over Europe, Hermione couldn't help but celebrate with them. It was nearly impossible not to; their joy was contagious. Plus it was seeing history in action. To live through the end of the worst war in history up to that point was an incredible thing.

But as the celebrations continued to stretch on, Hermione pulled away. Her Victory Day was still a long way off. So far, in fact, it was more of a pipe dream.

Even now, as she sat at her usual cafe across the street from her flat, people were still all smiles and pure joy. Well, _almost_ everyone.

As she glanced around at the people in the streets, milling about for the day, a small group with somber expression made her look twice. She studied them for awhile, waiting to see what they would do. When they started whispering to one another, their heads bowed together, Hermione cast a charm so she could hear them.

At the mention of a familiar name followed by the word "dead," Hermione's fork clattered onto her plate. It hadn't even finished moving before she was out of her seat, making a beeline towards the group.

"What did you say?" she asked, marching right up to them.

They looked at her apprehensively, but she tapped at her right wrist. The wand she'd purchased for show returned to normal size, landing in her palm from the holster she'd shrunk and turned into a bracelet. Their faces softened, but the sorrow only intensified.

"It happened in the night," one of them said, a tear rolling down her reddened cheeks.

Another began to speak, filling Hermione in on a tale she had heard many times before. Only this time, everything was different.

"You're sure?" she asked, her voice rough.

"I wish I wasn't."

Hermione shook her head as she stepped away from them. A few steps later, she was running through the crowd, stopping only when she was inside the safety of her flat. There, she rested against the door, muttering, "No, oh gods no," over and over again.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she conjured up the image of the night she'd left Hogwarts. She had already lived through this death once, but that wasn't supposed to happen for another fifty years. Had she known it was the last time she would see him face to face, she might have at least said goodbye.

"What have I done?" she whispered, sliding down the door until she was on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest.

She knew that by coming back here, by sending Draco home without her, she'd changed the future.

But this?

Before, she'd had the advantage of knowing what would happen and when. But now… Now she knew absolutely nothing.

And with Grindelwald having killed Dumbledore in a duel he was supposed to lose, anything was possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well hello again! thank you for sticking with me on this one.
> 
> In Continuum/Uncharted, I had kind of made up my own calendar. It was an oversight, one that I never fixed, but since I'm using real world events in this storyline, we're just gonna pretend the dates line up. It's too much to fix at this point.
> 
> Also, my second book is launching soon AND it's available for Pre-Order NOW (Ebook only!). You can head on over to madrosewriting ( d o t ) com for the link or search for Mayghaen D'Urso on Amazon.
> 
> If you only care about the fanfics, no worries! Come on over and join me on FB or TikTok at madrose_writing


	4. Chapter 4

**FOUR**

_**Sunday, 13 May 1945** _

Since the day he'd turned eleven, Tom had longed to hear that Dumbledore was dead. He always imagined that he would feel satisfied or smug. If he were really honest, he always thought he'd do the honors himself.

But now, hearing the news spread through the castle faster than Fiendfyre left Tom feeling lost and angry.

Dumbledore had been the last one to see Hermione. Months ago, he had assured Tom that he knew nothing of where she went or what she was up to. Still, he watched his professor closely on the off chance he wasn't telling the truth. So far, nothing he'd come across had seemed that way. Even if it was the truth, he was still the last link between Tom and Hermione.

With him gone, she would be harder to find.

Especially since Dumbledore's death meant there was no one in Grindelwald's way anymore. Up until the duel his late professor had taken part in, the two were equally matched. Now, all of the ideas that the older wizard wanted to inflict upon the world of both Muggles and Wizards alike, well, there was no one to stop him.

Once again, Tom was faced with having to alter his plans. To face the shift in his ambitions and give up one of the paths he'd been working towards all this time.

He and Claudia had been summoned to the Headmaster's office before the sun had even begun to rise. It was clear from the moment they entered the room that something grim had happened. That whatever news Headmaster Dippet was about to tell them would be anything but pleasant.

Claudia wept in her chair as Headmaster Dippet wiped at his own eyes with a handkerchief. Riddle sat next to Claudia, his eyes glued to the desk. He had always been one to get what he wanted. To read the room and emulate the emotions others were giving off. But when it came to sadness and grief, well, those were near impossible for him to display. So instead, he took the stoic route; sitting there, using that moment of silence to internalize his mutual joy and anger.

"I'm counting on the two of you to help keep everyone in check. These will be dark days ahead of us. Professor Dumbledore's death will affect everyone within these walls."

Dippet filled them in on what would happen within the school. That Sunday would be a day of shock as students and staff alike learned the news. And that the classes for the next day, maybe two would be cancelled so that people could grieve. That they would hold their own services so people could mourn in the one place Dumbledore had loved above all else.

But there were questions that Tom had. Ones that he wasn't sure it was appropriate to ask at that exact moment. It was a huge shock to both him and Headmaster Dippet when Claudia spoke next, asking the same things that were on Tom's mind.

"And what of Grindelwald? Will there be justice for Professor Dumbledore?"

Tom tried hard not to scowl at the look on Dippet's face. It was one he had seen from adults all his life. A precursor to a few condescending sentences that boiled down to them being too young or too naive to truly understand.

"As of right now, Grindelwald is still at large," Dippet stated, the anger plain as day in his tone. "I'm sure there will be plenty of speculation as to why Dumbledore went to meet with him, but we may never learn the truth."

"Dumbledore was the only wizard stronger than Grindelwald," Claudia said. "What if he goes after the Ministry like he's been threatening for years?"

Dippet's lips pressed together in a thin line, turning them white for a moment. "The Ministry doesn't take kindly to threats, Miss Sinclair. Fear not, should the moment arise, they'll protect us."

Tom remained silent.

With Dumbledore out of the way, there was nothing stopping him from infiltrating the Ministry. He'd been following Grindelwald's plans closely, both through the papers and inside information. Whatever he had been planning, he had the prime opportunity to strike now.

They only lingered a few moments before Dippet rose to his feet to dismiss them. "Whatever you two need, don't hesitate to ask." As they turned to leave, Tom stopped as Dippet called his name. Claudia went ahead, wiping at her eyes as she went before descending the stairs.

"Yes, Headmaster?"

"You and I were supposed to meet later to discuss something. I'm afraid I'll have to reschedule."

Tom inclined his head and inhaled deeply. "No need, Headmaster. My topic of discussion is no longer relevant to my goals."

His goal of staying in the castle and taking over for Professor Merrythought was nothing more than a dream now. While the idea of leaving the castle, the only real home he had ever really known, wasn't the most appealing, the thought of living in a world controlled by Grindelwald was even less so.

Dumbledore may be dead, but he wasn't the only wizard powerful enough to stop Grindelwald.

Tom just couldn't prove it if he stayed hiding inside the walls of the castle.

Without waiting for a reply from the Headmaster, Tom turned and took his leave of the office. Knowing the sky was sure to be full of owls bearing bad news before long, he hurried to the owlry and penned his own letter. He had intended to make his own way, but current events had forced his hand.

And by the end of the day, he had secured a place to live once he was finished with Hogwarts. A place where he could carry on with his plans and not worry about anything else.

* * *

_**Thursday, 28 June 1945** _

The last two months of his last term at Hogwarts had been a somber affair. Everyone was still expressing their grief over losing a loved professor. Tom ignored it all. Instead, he used what little time he had left there to get his affairs in order. On top of which, he spent a great deal throwing himself into his studies. Not only did he want to secure what he needed for his plans, but he had to ensure he passed his NEWTs with flying colors.

It wasn't a surprise when he had received O's across the board. He was, however, impressed with the amount of job offers that followed. He hadn't applied for hardly anything mostly due to the unstable climate at the Ministry. By the time school came to an end, Grindelwald still hadn't been caught. There were rumors of his minions having already infiltrated the Ministry and that he had a plan for takeover. And seeing as how Dumbledore was the only wizard he was afraid of, it seemed as though he intended to take his time with his plans.

So long as he kept that up, it gave Tom time to implement his own.

In order to do so, he declined each of the offers he received. He was careful in his wording, making sure to leave the impression that since the world was as large as it was, he felt the need to explore it a little more. A handful had sent a follow up response, letting him know that should he still be interested in a year's time, the offer would still stand.

On the night before everyone took their leave of the castle, Tom slipped out of the dungeons to do one last walk through the halls. He took his time, committing every little detail to memory. It was the first place he had ever stepped foot in and felt as though he actually belonged. The only person that had ever made him feel like he didn't was gone now. And somehow, the knowledge of that made the air a bit easier to breathe.

Long after the call for last light had been made, Tom found himself on the second floor. He rolled his shoulders as he walked into the girl's bathroom; the one that had been out of order for two years. Since the death of Myrtle Warren. He knew her ghost still haunted the stalls, that people complained of water seeping out from beneath the door on occasion.

He had yet to step foot in this room since that night. Since he had sealed the Chamber of Secrets with the notion that one day he would return. One day, he would finish what he started. Granted, as he thought of the Basilisk roaming the halls, he imagined it going after Hermione. The anger that simmered in his gut didn't sit well with him.

Tom didn't linger there for long. He hadn't seen Myrtle since he'd watched her lifeless body crumple to the floor before his eyes. Since he saw her soul rise above before plunging back into the toilet to hide from him. He'd been lucky that she hadn't surfaced when someone discovered her body later. Or that the half giant, Hagrid, had been a fool enough to openly associate with beasts. He'd been an easy target to pin a murder to.

Dumbledore had always known the truth, but without evidence, he had to accept the false proof that had been provided to him.

He knew he was also lucky that there hadn't been any witnesses later that summer when he'd found his father. In fact, the only one that had witnessed that moment had been Hermione. Even now, just thinking about it brought him back to the night on the Astronomy Tower. The night he had let her past his barriers and literally bared his soul to her.

She had seen it with her own two eyes, felt it with her own soul, and still, she stayed.

She had let him do things a monster should never be allowed to do. They had done things together that no good person should ever do.

As he ascended the stairs of the Astronomy Tower for the last time, he recalled the way she looked with her hand poised over Kerus' body. He could sense the panic and revulsion from taking his life, but beneath that there was fascination. He knew she enjoyed the rush like he did. That, had she not felt society's pressure to feel guilty, she might have even reveled in the power it gave her.

He rubbed at the scar on his hand as he shook the thoughts away.

It didn't matter now. She had left him. Whatever accommodations he had made for her with her soiled bloodline were no longer available. He was sure there would be a moment where their paths crossed again. He couldn't wait for the day where she came to him in need of help only so that he could turn her down and hurt her the way she deserved.

Back in his dorm, the only room he had ever had the chance to call his own, he made his way to the stone wall beside his bed. Right above the nightstand on the right was a loose brick. It was where he kept the Gaunt family ring; the one that contained the second piece of his soul. Holding it now, he wondered if Hermione had ever felt its presence any of the times she had been in this room.

She had made it clear that she knew of its existence, but he had always been surprised that she had never gone looking for it.

Carefully, he put the ring into a box he'd been working on for months now. One that was designed to mask the Dark Magic long enough for him to get to his new residence and hide it properly. As he laid down for the night, he recalled the other items Hermione had said he'd turned into Horcruxes. Had the rising threat of Grindelwald not been upon him, he might have been able to devote his time looking for them. The desire to expand his opportunity for immortality would have to wait.

The two that he'd already made would suffice.

* * *

_**Friday, 29 June 1945** _

For the last six years, riding the Hogwarts Express away from the castle had filled Tom with dread. It was the thing he looked forward to the least every year. The same went for the when the train pulled into it's secret station at King's Cross. He would see families reuniting left and right and even though he knew no one was waiting for him, it was hard to ignore. Every year, he would wait for the place to clear out before making his way to the Muggle streets of London so he could find his way back to Wool's Orphanage.

This year, not only was the ride short, it was also pleasant. And to top it off, once he stepped off the train, he didn't have to worry about finding a way to the orphanage. It wasn't as if he would be welcome there anyway.

No, this time, he had someone waiting for him as well as a place to go to.

For a moment, the sight of platinum hair sent Tom's blood into a boiled rage. It took longer than it should have for him to remember that the man before him was Abraxas Malfoy and not Draco. That Draco was gone from this time. Yet still, the resemblance to his ancestor was uncanny and disturbing.

"Was it true?" Abraxas asked as they followed the crowd.

"Was what true?" Tom returned.

"That there was a student who looked like me?"

Tom hummed in response. "Only he caused me far more trouble."

Abraxas chuckled as they passed through the barrier. They were silent as they walked from the station to the Diagon Alley. Only there was it safe to Apparate without being seen. Abraxas laid a hand over Tom's forearm and after being compressed down to nothing, they reappeared in front of a structure that was only second smallest to Hogwarts.

In all the times Tom had been to Malfoy Manner, it had never seemed so impressive. Of the new nights he had stayed there, he had often wondered what it would be like to truly live within those walls.

"Welcome home, my lord," Abraxas said with a sweeping bow.

And now, to make sure his plans went accordingly, he would no longer have to wonder.

**Author's Note:**

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